To the little ones who have no voice call to me with a sparkle in the eyes that only few of us see.

A secret language that makes you understand that quiet in the hallways and straighten up in that chair isn’t the suchness of life’s glory essence.

Technology building confidence in share holders wanting an administrative job for life copied shiny on boxes of paper delivered under budget.

Watching her stuffy ballet that impresses even me in the tidiness of the classroom which make old scatterbrain seem not modern and worthy of a college education to put letters by a name symbolic of honor.

But I speak child

Which is a thankless gift that at least they value in being a person seen as who they are and what could be past a resume and proud claps of a parent .

Joy

You

Enough

Maybe

Just being a kid

Something we all forgot and makes us refuse to sit on the floor amongst the mess we have no time to clean up

I speak child and see deep into their eyes a little bitty itsy spider that went up the slide the wrong way

Without getting hurt

and no fear of getting in trouble.